big brother and the brewing company

Sooooo there I was, there I was, there I was, in *dramatic pause* the jungle… okay not quite the jungle but there are some plants and stuff, so work with me here. I’m plodding along through my lovely day of minutia when I realize I am being watched. No monkeys in trees and no gorillas in the mist, just good ol’ Big Brother watching me. Yup I have stepped in a puddle of ‘wtf bitches’ and I’m a little fired up about it. Policies are being handed down, rules are being implemented, websites being blocked, uh no, no that’s not cool. If I’m not scrollin porn, back off my shit. I need a break from address label hell. When the day comes where they say I have to cover my tattoos or wear “regular” earrings I’m gonna find some kind of alternative lifestyle and tell them where to find it on the blocked fucking websites. and watch while their conservative little retinas burn. um, kay… Moving on, In the mean time I’m using that aggression for better things, like staple pulling and label printing and explaning the ways that wine can cause migraines. You know, hard, important stuff.

Fortunately for me it was my day of escape to the social world of bars and pubs. The land where anything can happen. When you have nights that leave you saying “I so need to write this stuff down. Who could make this shit up??”. *stops laughing and clears throat* Aaaahh, the brewery, (at least it is when the beer is pouring from the tap) where I beertender/serve/keep the general mayhem that is the owner to a minimum, one solitary night a week. He is kind of like a tazmanian devil on crack with some pot to calm the nerves, then throw in some beer to round it out and get him drunk. Mind you, with his metabolism it only takes about 1 ½. Things were already busy when I rolled in at the usual appointed hour. Cool more money right?? Not cool, no really. My partner in crime, the big man that keeps things flowing so I can keep people happy was not there. I was a little panicked when I didn’t see him and trust me he doesn’t blend into the crowd, his head is above the others. We’re kind of like Mutt & Jeff, being he’s like 6 foot, a lot and I’m a solid 5’4”. But we work well together. Instead, I got the mayhem. Actually I got the ‘really fuckin high’ mayhem. (I was informed immediately upon arrival of the regulars that have known him for years) Goodie, treats for sars! So I braced myself for the progressive disaster that was ahead for sure. But you know, I was keeping a positive attitude. Fortunately I had favorites sitting at the bar (said regulars) that saved my sanity and the mayhem’s life. How do you have beer on tap and a regulator that doesn’t regulate? (hhhmmm?? Basic grammar, I mean beer 101??) And wouldn’t you as a customer get a little bummed when your favorite beertender says for the third week in a row, “We have a pale, a pale ale or how about the pale? Oh, oh… I can get you an apricot if you like – I am talented. What’s it like? Much like the pale, hoppy, with an apricot essence.” Pissed, I’d be pissed. People that come from out of town because of some write up in some brewery publication don’t want to hear that they can sample 1 kind of beer. From the regular crowd I can see the looks of ‘we came for an Amber or Brown or is there Root Beer?’ My pasted smile is causing TMJ. By now they all know me and the mayhem that I deal with… Thus the ‘chip’ at the bar constantly playing the role of regulator. Maybe he’s earned a new name. And riddle me this? (since I asked) How does a business work if every guy you know, that’s your age has helped you open the bar and thus gets free beer?!? How do you run a business with incorrect tax programmed into the register? Hello, you get to pay the difference or just fix the damn thing. Better yet… 10 key! We’re old skool anyhow not taking plastic and my ever faithful post-it tab system. I have yet to have walk away from the pink post-it without paying. Oh, and if you can’t speak a single sentence without apologizing three times or backpedaling twice or touching the female closest to you, how do you get anywhere??? Wait, wait… I got it… this only happens when your drunk! Well the tax thing not so much, but everything else is on a slide that has a sharp grade, it gets steeper with every sip. You can’t sub for the guy that usually cooks, and is 90% sober when you are the opposite (and hiiigh to boot). It doesn’t set well with the one who has to go out front and tell everyone the no’s and the why’s. gee, I guess I had some pent up shit, it was quite a day. Maybe I need a beer. Should I have a pale, a pale or a pale ale????

get sars for your very own!

About Sars

I am the full time rider/conductor of the Bi-Polar Express (2.oh!) Welcome to my ride. Please keep hands and feet inside the pretty pink car at all times, for your safety of course. Rose colored glasses are not only encouraged, but required.
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